


Swelling

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica twists her ankle, Arcade and Boone waste a lot of time arguing whether it's a sprain or a break. Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swelling

"‘M telling you,” he said. “It’s a break.”

Arcade ignored him. “It’s just a sprain. Can you put weight on it if we support you?”

Veronica shook her head weakly. “Don’t think so.” Her face was ashen, her forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat. They were in Westside on the Courier’s behalf, looking to negotiate a water treaty with Tom Anderson. Veronica had slipped on the stairs in the Casa Madrid. She’d taken a hard fall and twisted her ankle. When Arcade rolled her pants leg up, the joint was swollen and blue.

“How’s it feel?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“Hurts,” she said. “Really bad.”

“It’s broken,” Boone repeated. “Sprains don’t puff up like that.”

Arcade glared at him. “It’s not broken. I know a break when I see one.” He returned his attention to Veronica. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Let’s get you on your feet.” He put an arm around her, and moved to haul her to her feet. She blanched and shoved him away, more forcefully than she’d intended.

“I told you, I can’t stand. It hurts, Arcade.”

“Because it’s broken,” Boone said.

“Sprains hurt worse than breaks,” Arcade snapped. “Shut up, Boone. I’m trying to think.”

“I think he’s right,” Veronica said, voice strained from the effort of not crying. “It’s really, really bad. Do we have any Med-X? I really want some Med-X right now.”

“If you can still move your toes, it’s not broken,” Arcade said, irritated. “And we don’t have any Med-X, you know how Six hoards it.”

“Can’t believe we don’t have one lousy vial,” she said. “I’d suck a dick for some Med-X right now. I’d suck twenty dicks. A hundred.” She laughed weakly at her own joke, but her smile turned into a grimace as another spasm of pain gripped her. “I think I’m gonna puke,” she said faintly.

A bead of sweat worked its way free of Arcade’s hairline and rolled down his forehead. His fingers twitched, and he thought longingly of the cigarettes in his dresser drawer back at the Lucky 38. “Med-X would just tear your stomach up. Try to breath through the pain.”

“Can I fantasize about punching you, instead?”

“You’re in a delicate state; I’m choosing not to hold that against you,” he said. “Now come on, you can’t sit in this stairwell until the swelling goes down. We can sit in Tom’s apartment until you feel like you can walk, but we have to move.”

“Carry me,” she said.

“What?”

“I want Boone to carry me,” she said.

Arcade turned to Boone, despairing, but Boone had already moved to Veronica’s side. “On three,” he said, and she nodded.

He lifted her easily and carried her up the stairs and down the hall. Arcade trailed after, wringing his hands, feeling distinctly useless. Boone kicked Tom’s door open and gallantly carried Veronica over the threshold like a hero from an Old-World romance novel.

Tom was sitting at his kitchen table, head in his hands. He startled at their graceless entrance, his alarm giving way to simple alertness when he realized Veronica’s condition. “On the couch,” he ordered, and Boone did as he was told. Tom dragged a kitchen chair and a lamp around and sat by Veronica’s feet. With utmost care, he lifted her injured ankle into his lap.

“What’d you do to it?” he asked.

“Fell down the stairs,” she said. “I saw it bend.”

“Well, it’s almost definitely broken.” Boone shot a ‘told-you-so’ look at Arcade and said nothing. “Sprains don’t swell up like this. A couple stims, a good night’s rest, and then you need to get yourself to Old Mormon Fort for an x-ray.” He sat up a little and looked around. “Do you three have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“Courier’s got a room downstairs,” Boone said.

Tom nodded. “Good. You need to see a real doctor quick as you can, but it’s not going to get any worse overnight. You want compression, and you want to keep it elevated.” He twisted round in his seat to face Arcade. “Gannon, I’ve got an ace bandage in my top left desk drawer. And if you want any Med-X,” he said, taking on a wheedling tone, “I’ve got a few doses. Fifty caps.”

“That’s highway robbery,” Veronica said.

He shrugged. “Times are tough. You understand.” He accepted the elastic bandage from Arcade and began wrapping her ankle. Her expression slackened in immediate relief.

“You’re a good man, Tom Anderson,” she said.

He patted her shin. “All in a day’s work. Now, if your large friend is amenable, I need you off my couch. I’ve got work to do.”

Boone carried Veronica back down the steps, earning wolf whistles from the residents who’d drifted out to watch the commotion. Ears burning scarlet, he deposited Veronica on the bed in the Courier’s dingy flat, and headed back out to buy the Med-X from Tom. She grimaced when Arcade stuck the needle into the bruised skin above her ankle, but the immediate relief was worth the price of a pinprick.

“That’s the good stuff,” she said sleepily. “But I’m not going to suck your dick.”

She was asleep before Arcade had time to prepare a snide response, so he rolled her pant leg down awkwardly and left her there, ankle propped up on on a pillow. Sighing, he walked back into the living room and sat down beside Boone on the couch.

“That’s not how I expected my day to go,” he said, tiredly.

Boone grunted. “Told you it was broken.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt meme on Tumblr, originally posted [here](http://placentalmammal.tumblr.com/post/124298349163/cuttlefish-something-with-boone-please).


End file.
